


I'll Always Be Chasing that Red String of Fate

by Soojinie



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Period-Typical Racism, Romance, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:47:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23719213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soojinie/pseuds/Soojinie
Summary: No matter the time or the distance, the red string of fate will always bring them back together.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Steve/Bucky, StevexBucky
Comments: 2
Kudos: 33





	I'll Always Be Chasing that Red String of Fate

**Author's Note:**

> So I originally posted this on my Tumblr years ago, then on my Fanfiction.net account, and now I feel like I should move it here since I'm on this site the most. I hope you enjoy it, and I apologise I haven't had the time to update it so there are probably errors.

Steve knew exactly how long it had been since Bucky left. Knew it in the feeling of the sun on his back as he sat at the window trying for the fifth time to draw a picture before cursing lightly and erasing it, knew from the pain shooting up his spine telling him it would rain tonight, and knew it from the weight in his chest that could not be attributed to any kind of ailment for once. Grunting, he placed his pad of paper down carefully, reverently, knowing that throwing a tantrum was not going to get him anywhere, and Bucky would kill him if he found out that he had ruined a gift given to him right before he left.

“Six hours and thirty two minutes.”

Huffing, Steve ran his fingers through his hair and closed his eyes counting slowly. He did not want to think about it, did not want to constantly be reminded, but how could he not be? Bucky had boarded the train at nine in the morning sharp, not wanting to be there a moment earlier than he had to be, and it had been a solemn ordeal. Mr. and Mrs. Barnes were proud of their son, but worry seeped out of Mrs. Barnes as she tugged at her son’s collar telling him to, ‘be safe’, and, ‘make sure to write whenever you can’. Next, Bucky’s sisters had hugged him telling him not to spend too much time with the dames and to keep himself out of trouble knowing fully well that the one who got him into trouble would not be joining him anyways. Steve, god he hated to remember, why was he thinking about this, he had smiled as if nothing was wrong, as if he was not terrified for his friend, and clapped him on the shoulder before bringing him into a rough hug.

“Don’t do anything stupid you hear punk?”

Bucky whispered into his ear, and Steve went against his protesting back and hugged Bucky tighter.

“How could I, you’re taking all the stupid with you jerk.”

Steve never wanted to say that line again, it tasted foul in his mouth. Now those simple words would forever be remembered in his mind as the phrase that meant he was afraid, meant that he might not see James Buchanan Barnes again, and there was nothing he could do to help.

“I’m with you ‘till the end of the line Buck.”

Standing from his seat Steve walked across the small apartment and stretched going through his usual routine when his pain started to flare up.

“I can’t do anything from here, but I’ll figure out something, I promise.”

No, he would not give up, there had to be a way. For now though, he had to get out of the apartment, had to do something other than sit and try to unsuccessfully draw something. He was off of work for the day, his boss had told him that there was no point dragging himself in if he was going to be miserable and inattentive anyways, and he wished momentarily that he had gone in anyways.

Steve’s little journey took him all around Brooklyn, but he still felt antsy. Mrs. Leibowitz, a kindly older woman whom Bucky and Steve often visited or ran errands for, stopped him as he passed her house and gave him a piece of candy before patting him fondly on the head.

“It’s okay boychik, he’ll be back soon.”

He smiled in return, thanked her for the treat, and waved goodbye to her as he walked away, but as soon as he rounded the corner the frown was right back on his face. Everyone seemed to know, everyone was sorry for him, Mr. and Mrs. Barnes had even practically begged him to come home with them, but he could make it on his own, he could deal with this on his own.

“Whad’ya say then? You a Chink or a Jap?”

“You even speak English old man? Government should put you out west in one of them camps where you belong.”

“Answer us old man, you wanna get roughed up?”

Steve felt a rush of adrenaline hearing the two bullies words. He was not one to usually get himself into fights just to be in them, but he had to admit the idea somehow had a calming effect on him. With no chance of getting his mind off of Buck, why not _force_ his mind off of him? He knew exactly who these guys were, Fred Jackson and James Saunders were notorious racists and bullies, and he had run across them numerous times before.

“How ‘bout you pick on someone your own size huh?”

Entering the relatively narrow alleyway, Steve caught the bullies attention as he spoke making sure to inch his way in front of the man that was being accosted. A single glance and he knew who it was and why it was they were not talking. Mr. Shu Jiang, an elderly Chinese man who lived on the third floor of their apartment building and who was always nice to Steve when they crossed paths, was just as stubborn as he was, and was just as likely to say absolutely nothing and let people think he did not understand them so he would not have to deal with them as he was to tell someone off in perfectly clear and precise English. He had been a teacher in China before he moved to New York with his family to get a new start, and they had been lucky to find work relatively quickly. Mr. Jiang’s children were grown now, and Mrs. Jiang had made her way to heaven only three or so years previously, but Mr. Jiang was still very sturdy and spry in his old age, unwilling to let others intimidate him.

“Well if it ain’t Rogers. Lookie here Jim. We got us a shrimp tryin’ to be a wise guy.”

Fred laughed heartily as he looked at Steve and quickly jabbed James in the side.

“You think he’d’a learned from last time. Guess we gotta give him another lesson.”

Fred smirked cracking his knuckles and stepped forward squaring up to fight.

“I could do this all day.”

Putting his fists up and squaring his shoulders like Bucky taught him to do, Steve got ready. He knew how James and Fred fought, knew that Fred was not as good with a right hook, and that James favored his left leg. The problem though was they knew how Steve fought too. They knew that he was partially deaf in his left ear making it easier for them to sneak up on him from that side. They knew that no matter how he denied it, if they hit him enough in the back he would be down for the count. It would definitely take all his concentration not to end up mashed to a pulp. In truth, he kind of hoped they would get bored of it soon and go off on their way.

After the first few punches were thrown, Steve being successful in landing one straight to Fred’s face and a kick to James’ right leg, the three boys got into a rhythm of blocking and attacking. Steve thought that he might actually have it, might actually be able to keep up for once, when someone suddenly approached from the left side and he found himself sprawled on the pavement. The two boys kicked him mercilessly, laughing and spitting as they did, but after a few minutes they lost all interest and congratulated each other before going on their way Mr. Jiang completely forgotten about.

Taking in a ragged breath Steve tried to relax, tried to ignore the pain his whole body was experiencing. His lungs were tight, like he was having an asthma attack, and his back was throbbing in pain. He would have quite the shiner tomorrow, he could just tell, but he refused to cry, refused to do anything but focus on breathing. He was so preoccupied with not passing out, with thinking about the fact that if Bucky had of been there the two of them could have taken those brutes on easily, that when he felt a soothing hand on his side he flinched unable to stop himself from doing so.

“Steven, if your upset you shouldn’t throw yourself into a fight. It doesn’t do anything for you.”

Turning Steve sucked in a breath before leaning up against the alley wall.

“Sorry Mr. Jiang I don’t think I get what ya mean. Freddy and Jim were messing with you, I couldn’t just pass on by.”

Mr. Jiang chuckled a little shaking his head before he came over and sat next to Steve offering his handkerchief.

“Come on Steven, there’s no reason to lie to me.”

Steve suddenly felt exposed, felt like he was under a microscope, and so he shook his head ‘no’ to the offered handkerchief and blurted out what he usually said.

“I’m just frustrated is all. I should be in Europe right now fighting, I have no right being-.”

“Another lie Steven? That’s very unlike you. I know that James, Bucky, shipped out today. It’s okay to be upset.”

Lips going tightly shut and mouth going dry Steve looked at his hands letting his fingers go over the bruise forming on his knuckles. He should have known better than to lie, Steve and Buck were inseparable, of course everyone around the neighborhood had heard that the duo were finally being split up. Steve did not want to talk about it though, did not want to say it out loud. If he said what he was feeling and thinking out loud then it would come true. Mr. Jiang offered the handkerchief once more and this time Steve took it wiping his hands and running it over his brow. The more he thought about it and sat on it the more he squirmed and wrung the handkerchief between his hands. He was practically bursting with feelings, he felt so torn.

“He wasn’t supposed to go alone. We’re supposed to be there for each other, until the end of the line, we always said that. Buck’s off to Europe all alone and I’m here doing what? Nothing! I can’t help him from here, I have to be with him if I’m gonna help him out. What if…”

The words caught in his throat choking him, making him shake.

“What if…”

He could not help it, Steve sniffed hard coughing a little to cover it and then wrung the handkerchief between his hands tighter wrapping it around his hands and unwrapping it. Talking a little more softly he clenched his jaw.

“There’s a chance that Buck might go somewhere where I can’t follow, and that _terrifies_ me.”

Nodding his head Mr. Jiang sighed and put his hand on Steve’s shoulder in a comforting manner. After a moment of silence between the two of them where Steve tried to steady his erratic breathing, why his chest was constricting so much was a mystery considering there was no way it was his asthma, Mr. Jiang put his hand into his pocket and looked for something. When he made a noise of triumph Steve looked at him curiously as he pulled out a red string.

“Let me see your hand, hmm, your left I think.”

Offering his hand without question Steve watched as the string was tied snugly around his pinky finger and finished with a bow.

“In my culture there’s a story about a god called Yue Xia Lao, also known simply as Yue Lao, and he can be found in many forms, but often the one constant theme is he talks to people while under the moonlight.”

Nodding his head silently Steve listened enraptured to the tale.

“Well, Yue Lao is well known for tying a bit of red string around someone’s finger, and telling them that this red string is the red string of fate, and that whomever the red string attaches to on the other end, you are destined to be connected to for the rest of your life. The string can not be broken, it can be tangled, can be pulled taught or go slack, but it is never broken.”

Tugging at the little piece of string Mr. Jiang smiled.

“You and Bucky are connected by a red string of fate Steven, I just know it. I don’t think your friend will ever go anywhere where you can’t follow him. No matter what, you’ll end up back together.”

Steve had to look back at his finger to keep himself from crying, had to turn his head away as he stood and helped Mr. Jiang back to his feet. Even when they walked back to the apartment building together and took the stairs to Mr. Jiang’s floor, he could barely wheeze out a thank you and a promise to return the handkerchief cleaned in the next day or two before he felt his throat squeeze and his lungs catch fire. Mr. Jiang told him to keep the handkerchief, said he had plenty, and put his hand on Steve’s shoulder one last time before turning into his apartment for the night.

Hearing the latch on Mr. Jiang’s apartment catch Steve took the stairs as quickly as his body would allow feeling winded and shaky as he fumbled with his keys and stumbled into his apartment. Nearly slamming the door behind himself, he slammed the bolt on the lock home and sagged against the door tears flowing freely.

“He won't go anywhere I can’t follow, he can’t.”

Sniffing and clearing his throat he took off his jacket and shoes carefully before crawling into his bed. Every pain made itself known, and as if things were not already bad enough, the heavens opened up and it began to rain making his back twinge in even more pain.

“Red string of fate huh? If that’ll keep ‘im safe, if it’ll keep us together, then I can believe in it.”

Touching the little string tied around his pinky finger, Steve cried himself to sleep that night out of frustration and desperation. He would have been embarrassed, but who was there to hear him wail anyways? It was just him and an empty apartment, he did not have to be strong all the time.

Steve still remembered that day months later, remembered that he had worn the string on his finger until it had come off of its own volition, and had been so tempted to tie it back on that he had to tell himself it was silly to even try. Months later he remembered that day as he rode in a plane flown by Howard Stark with Peggy Carter across from him the bombs exploding around them illuminating her look of trepidation. Bucky’s unit had been captured, but there was no way he could be… gone. They still had that link, still had that bond, and Steve believed with all his heart that Mr. Jiang had been right, that he would see his friend no matter what, that the link would never be broken.

After everything, after every bullet that soared past him, after every man that he freed from their cage, after everything and everyone telling him that there was no chance that Bucky could be alive, Steve touched his left hand as if it was some kind of prayer. He searched the compound, and when he finally came across him strapped down to a table reciting his name and serial number, Steve felt like he might cry like he did so many months ago. Bucky was in bad shape, Hydra had done a number on him, but he was alive, god he was alive.

Later that night after the horror of battle and the Red Skull, when they had escaped the danger of the compound and found themselves walking back to their own territory, Steve did not want to take his eyes or his hands off of Bucky for even a single moment. Buck was too stubborn to be carried by the medical crew, anytime anyone came to close he tensed up or pushed the person away, and it gave Steve time to recount what Mr. Jiang had said to him to help sooth him and get him to relax, to tell him that they would always be connected, and to solidify his mantra that they would never go where the other could not follow. They would always have each other even if they did not have anyone else. Bucky smiled and agreed when he became more lucid a few miles later, mentioned he had always liked Mr. Jiang, and as they murmured quietly to each other as they walked, it was like they had never been apart. Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers were back to being two punk kids from Brooklyn too stubborn to back down, and unwilling to turn a blind eye to bullies.

The two stayed inseparable even when they were teased mercilessly for it. They trusted explicitly in each other no matter what mission they went on. Steve jokingly tied a red string around Bucky’s left pinky finger, Bucky tied one around his in return, and they kept the little reminders there until they fell off. The eventual absence did not matter though, even after the strings frayed and fell off, they both still felt like they could see it, could feel the connection to the other if they just focused. There was nothing ever to worry about as long as they felt that connection.

What happened when Steve was late to a checkpoint or the Howling Commando’s watched as a building collapsed in a ball of flame with Captain America supposedly inside? Bucky did not waver, did not flinch.

“He’s not coming Buck, I’m sorry, he’s not.”

One of the Howling Commando’s would try to tell him sadly, but Bucky would just shake his head.

“He’ll be back, I know it. I feel it. Have a little faith.”

They would frown and sigh and mumble among themselves, but not even fifteen minutes later and there came Steve all shy smiles and dirty uniform.

“Hope I didn’t keep you waiting for too long.”

Bucky would look at the team with a grin, as if gloating on how right he was, before he would make his way to his friend and just chuckle ruffling Steve’s hair.

“Nah, we knew you’d come along eventually.”

Everything was good, well, as good as it could be going on missions endangering their lives constantly that is. Everything was fine until that fateful day.

“Do you remember the Cyclone on Coney Island? Is this payback?”

The wind was howling, it was frigid, time moved quickly as they raced through the mountains on a speeding train. One moment they were fighting, and the next thing Steve could remember was yelling out for Bucky, reaching his hand out desperately and touching air. He was screaming, god that was Bucky screaming, Steve could hear Bucky as he fell and yelled back in return feeling his heart free falling along with his best friend.

“He can’t go anywhere I can’t follow, he can’t go where I can’t follow.”

He repeated that to himself as the train sped on. He thought for sure that would hold true, surely this would be like every other time. If Steve just believed then Bucky would come back. They had that connection after all, they were with each other until the end of the line.

As if to add insult to injury, while Steve fought off a Hydra agent he cut his finger, more importantly, his pinky finger, and he suddenly felt sick. It was not just because he had cut himself, no, there was something else. Steve felt as if his hand was catching fire, and the source was his pinky. He felt his heart palpitate, felt his lungs constrict, his back even began to hurt, all things he had not dealt with since he had shed his sickly body and became Captain America, and he could not help the howl of pain that escaped from him. The pain grew to a crescendo and then, like the snapping of a twig, he felt something dislodge from his very soul before the pain left him feeling tired and empty.

He could not think about this now, he had to get the Hydra scientist Zola, but god Steve knew, he knew in his very core what this meant. As soon as the mission was completed and he was back at base he ran back to his room and stripped off his uniform frantically. Each piece came off easily, and yet he left the glove for last fearing what he would see. Choking he pulled the glove off slowly and saw the healed cut red and angry and looping around his finger just like that red string used to. Biting his tongue he tried to gather himself. Not yet, god not yet. He had to report to command, he had to put on his dress uniform.

Later that night he sat in a bombed out bar, the very bar where he had convinced his friend to follow him into war despite the fact he was free to go home, and cried. Drink after drink did nothing for him, and god, as he flexed his hand and looked at the red scar he felt nothing. Bucky was gone and it was his fault. “He can’t go where I can’t follow. He shouldn’t be able to. Buck… Buck. James Buchanan Barnes. Dammit.” Knocking back a few more drinks he cried himself out only finally settling when he heard someone approaching. It was still so new being able to hear so well. Where was the half deaf boy now? Had he died when Bucky did? What was the point of him being here if Bucky was not? For now, the only thing he had left was to wipe out Hydra. As if their crimes against humanity were not bad enough, they had now committed the ultimate crime against him. They would pay for it, they had to take responsibility.

Nothing was the same without Bucky by his side, and no matter the fact that he could take care of himself perfectly well, his left side always felt blind. Mission after mission he called for a man that was not there. The Howling Commandos never mentioned anything, but they all knew. Even as eventually he tried to console Peggy on the other end of the phone as he fly a plane carrying the fate of the world into the ocean, Steve thought of Bucky. When he could no longer hear her, when he knew the radio had gone completely silent he frowned and took a steadying breath.

“I guess this is the end of the line for me Buck, sorry I’m joining you a bit late.”

Sighing deeply he shut his eyes not wanting to watch as his world became dark. At least there was some solace to dying.

Something was wrong when Steve opened his eyes again. A baseball game was on the radio and a woman entered the room looking somehow wrong, somehow fake. He wanted to cry out, he did not care about what was going on, did not care that these people were lying to him, whatever this was they had robbed him of the one thing he desperately wanted, what he needed more than air. They had taken away his chance at being with Bucky again, and he felt himself choking even as he was surrounded by unfamiliar cars in an unfamiliar place and a man with an eyepatch called him by name.

Fighting the battle for New York, forming the Avengers, was great for getting his mind off of what he had lost, of the pain that throbbed like a ghost of a memory in the dark part of his soul. When New York was finally safe, Steve moved to Washington, D.C. in hopes the change in scenery would help. Every night he looked at his hand sadly and bit back the sob that would accompany his train of thought if he was not careful. He filled his empty days with trying to rediscover himself, with trying to rediscover the world, but his nights were all the same. He dreamed of a train and the unforgiving wind.

When he met Sam, Steve knew immediately that Bucky would think he was amazing. Out of an urge to get Bucky back and the simple desire for friendship, for a personal connection, he began talking to the man and they hit it off. Sam had lost someone too, his wing man, and Steve immediately wanted to ask if he had felt his soul wrench in two like he had, he kept his mouth shut though, why bring the same pain to Sam? In the end, Sam was a good man, he helped with the healing, but he could not awaken the part of his soul that had died no matter how hard Steve wanted him to.

Over time Sam became more than just a replacement, he really did become a friend, and Steve was glad for that. With Sam in his life he wondered about all the other things he might be comfortable doing again. Maybe he really could reach out and possibly have a lady friend. Sharon, his neighbor, was nice after all, and she had always been friendly, maybe he could ask her out for coffee or something? He did not forget Bucky, he never could, but suddenly his nights became a little easier to sleep through, he felt a little lighter. Maybe this new life would not be so bad. Bucky might not be in it, but the world had moved on without the both of them, this was his chance for a new start, and he needed to take it with both hands.

When danger came crashing into the world once again and Steve found out that SHIELD and Hydra were nearly one and the same he was furious. Hydra had taken everything, even his death, and now they were going to try to take his life away from him again. He had Natasha to help him, but he needed someone else, and immediately Sam came to mind. Just as expected Sam was brilliant, everything that Steve could hope for and more, and he covered Steve’s open left perfectly, but the emotional fit was not perfect, and after a month of feeling like he could live without Bucky, he suddenly felt the pang of loneliness again. As if to prove a point his scar became itchy, a feeling in the place of nothingness, and it confused him. They had a job to do though, and taking down Hydra would not be easy. What else could he expect though when the organization had become so strong on the coattails of a seemingly righteous institution?

The Winter Soldier, the man who had been in his apartment, the man who had killed Nicholas Fury, was before him on a road. Natasha was nowhere to be seen, and that simple fact worried him immensely. As the man approached fully prepared, Steve brought his fists up like he had so many times in a crowded alleyway in New York City, and got ready to fight. He felt the sweat on his brow as he tried to take down the supposed ghost. A jab here and a fist there, stroke for stroke the two were locked in an intricate dance waiting for the other to miss a step. When he saw an opening Steve took it, and the soldier went flying his mask falling off as well.

The face that he saw when the Winter Soldier turned left Steve feeling like he was seeing an actual ghost.

“Bucky?”

This could not be true, he could not be seeing this correctly.

“Who the hell is Bucky?”

James Buchanan Barnes was staring back at him, was speaking to him, and Steve felt his hand throbbing.

“Buck I-”

Cut off mid sentence Bucky lunged at Steve and the fight continued. His heart was not in it anymore though. This was Bucky, this was his best friend in the world. This was the man he had seen fall off a train and felt die all those years ago. Then, after a quick succession of counter attacks from Sam and Natasha, Steve found himself looking at smoke as if the man he cared for had not even been there.

The final battle, this was Steve’s final battle, and he dressed accordingly. Sam tried to shake reason into him, tried to do what any friend would do,

“He’s not the same man you knew Steve. He’s not the kind of man you save, he’s the kind you stop.”

That did not stop Steve from putting his old uniform on though, did not stop him from preparing to die if that was what it took. He had two last missions, and he knew that there was a chance that one of them would not be completed. He had failed once, had let Bucky fall off that train, had been so convinced he did not survive that he had not even tried to find a body to burry, and this was his penance. He only hoped that in the end Buck would be saved from whatever horror he had been put through.

“Please don’t make me do this.”

As they fought aboard the helicarrier Steve grunted knowing he had to put the final computer chip into its place while only half-heartedly trying to fight off his friend.

“You know me Bucky, it’s me, Steve!”

As he scrambled away and was just about to put the chip in to the computer, two shots rang out and he sagged against the console. With all the strength he could muster he completed his task and felt the entirety of the helicarrier begin to shake. Pieces of the it began falling as the ships fired on each other and Steve could hear the extraction plan blaring in his ear but denied it. How could he leave when everything he wanted was right here in front of him?

Making his way down to Bucky where he was pinned, Steve frowned feeling the pain in his gut and wondered how to best free his friend from the beam that had landed on him. He wanted to apologize for dislocating his arm, but it had been necessary in the moment. Bucky writhed and hissed like a feral animal, but Steve did not pay attention to him deciding to use all of his strength to pick up the beam enough for his friend to wiggle out from beneath it. They both breathed heavily and Steve thought for sure that Bucky would finally listen to him, that maybe he remembered him,

“You know me.”

He was matter of fact about it, there was no question.

“No I don’t!”

Bucky yelled out with a grunt before Steve felt a fist hit him straight across the face and had to kneel back down from the force of it.

“Bucky, you’ve known me your whole life.”

The look that crossed Bucky’s face gave Steve hope. He looked so afraid, so confused, he knew that Bucky would remember, had to remember, if he was just willing to listen. Another punch went right across his face and suddenly he found himself out of breath, but his resolve was no less strong.

“Your name is James. Buchanan. Barnes.”

“Shut up!”

Bucky yelled at him lunging again before hitting Steve square across the jaw knocking him back in agitation.

Staggering forward, god, he could not remember the last time his body felt this bad, Steve fumbled with his helmet before finally ripping it off and throwing it on the ground.

“I’m not going to fight you.”

Beaten and bloody Steve thought of all the fights they had been in together before, back when the only bullies they had to worry about were kids in some dirty back alley, all the times Bucky saved him just in the nick of time, and threw down his shield,

“You’re my friend.”

There is a split second pause, as if everything in life has stopped, as if everything stands still, and he wonders if this is it, if he will finally get what he wants.

Bucky lunged at Steve breaking the spell and throwing him on his back.

“You’re my mission.”

It’s cold and precise, and suddenly there is a metal fist pounding into Steve’s face just like old times when the bullies would wail on him until they got bored. This time it was Bucky though, and it hurts Steve a thousand times more than any fight he has ever gotten into in his entire life. Every blow is like a sharp knife twisting in his chest, and Steve takes them unwilling to fight back, unwilling to hurt the only person in the world he cares about. Bucky suddenly stopped for a moment and Steve gasped finding it hard to breathe between the blood pooling in his mouth and his aching head.

“Then finish it… ‘Cause I’m with you… ‘till the end of the line.”

There is another feeling of a slow pause taking over, like life itself is stopping again, and this time, through his dwindling vision and swelling bruises, Steve sees something come over Bucky’s face that makes his heart break just that little bit more. Bucky looks so afraid, so lost, and Steve just wishes he could take the pain away, wishes once more that he had of looked for his friend sooner. If he had only gone back, the mantra rings through the silence drowning out everything, if he had only tried harder, then maybe Bucky would not be in this pain, would not be so afraid. If he had only gotten to him sooner, then none of this would have ever happened. Maybe they would have died together of old age back in Brooklyn, back when they had the world on a string, and long before this crazy new world took over.

“I remember dreaming I was falling. It felt like I was falling for forever, like it would never end. When I finally woke up in the hospital again, I didn’t know how to feel. Sam was there, listening to something, and I remember cracking a joke. ‘On your left’ I said to him. He always hated when I did that when we went running. It was nice seeing him there though, I didn’t have to worry about if I’d lost time again, but you… You weren’t there. I was devastated, I wondered if maybe you had gone down with the helicarrier. I… I thought you were gone for good, that this time we really had broken fate.”

Running his fingers through Bucky’s hair soothingly as the former Winter Soldier leaned against his chest, Steve sighed for a moment and closed his eyes.

“I asked about you, and when I finally got an answer I was hopeful. They didn’t find a body, and I still had the scar, and I started feeling it more. I knew that you had to be alive, I had to find you.”

It had taken quite some time to locate Bucky, and even then he had not been the same man from Brooklyn or the bridge or the helicarrier. He had been a lost man, some mix of feral creature and homeless veteran, and Steve had nearly cried with relief when they finally tracked him down. He had immediately hugged his dear friend tight to his chest the moment he was close enough to grab on to him.

It had taken them months after that day for Bucky to open up, to start talking in more than single words or simple sentences. He had his own room in a little apartment with Steve, but not long into his recovery they began sharing the same bed finding it helped both of them with their night terrors. Soon after that Buck was willing to start talking to someone other than Steve. A year or so later he was nowhere near completely recovered, but he was definitely doing a lot better than anyone expected he would. Bucky did not remember everything, they did not expect him to ever get all his memories back when it all came down to it, and he did have his bad days, but he was safe, and he was home, and god did Steve love him.

When Bucky did not say anything in reply Steve opened his eyes and looked down at him wondering what the other man was thinking. Bucky was looking at Steve’s left hand, at the little scar still a dark red line around his finger, and then slowly glanced over to his own metal hand where there was no markings other than where the metal plates of his arm connected. Bucky worked his jaw in thought, something he had done ever since they were kids, and Steve just smiled lacing his own fingers with Bucky’s.

“It’s okay Buck, you’re here, that’s all that I’ve ever wanted.”

Still distracted, Bucky looked at his right hand and sucked in a breath when his eyes fell on a scar like Steve’s. It was nearly hidden by a few other cuts and callouses, but there it was, bright as day.

“Stevie.”

Turning excitedly in Steve’s lap so they were face to face, Bucky let his metal hand slip out of Steve’s grip and put his right hand to the now unoccupied and matching left. Steve’s hand was wider, a little bigger all around, but the mark was unmistakeable.

“Red string of fate huh?”

Steve’s heart soared at the sight and a bright smile broke out across his face.

“Guess Yue Lao is smiling down on us right? That’s what Mr. Jiang would’a said I think.”

Bucky chuckled in reply leaning in and kissing Steve plainly before pulling back and smiling. Steve doubted that he would ever get used to that, would ever get over how wonderful it felt to kiss his best friend, and he leaned in to steal just one more. Ever patient, Bucky just grinned indulging Steve though they both knew he loved it just as much as Steve.

“I think that we should’a known from the day we said we’d be with each other ‘till the end of the line and that nothing would tear us apart.”

Pulling Bucky in close Steve nodded his head in agreement smiling up at the moon. In that moment he wished he could go back in time and tell Mr. Jiang a thousand ‘thank you’s’, tell him that he was right, but he also, for once, had no urge to give up what he had in the here and now. Steve would do everything all over again, he would even go through the first painful months of having Bucky back as nothing but a husk of himself, if that meant that he could keep things the way they were now forever.

Staring out the window and up at the moon Steve smiled broadly kissing the top of Bucky’s head before placing his head there and making himself comfortable.

“I love you Buck, and I’m with you ‘till the end of the line. Our fates are tied with a red string in a bow.”

Bucky chuckled in return burrowing his head safely under Steve’s chin before sighing.

“You’re such a sap, but yeah, the same goes for me. You’re not going anywhere without me anytime soon ya got that?”

Nodding his head Steve could not help but to lean in for just one more kiss.

“Wouldn’t dream of it Buck, not in a million years. We’ve been apart long enough I think, ‘bout time we stopped chasing each other and just stay in one spot.”


End file.
